The Noble War
by S0ci0pathicPrincess
Summary: AU where Violet & Tate are alive, in love, and Violet is just as twisted as Tate. Roughly inspired by movie, The Heathers. Rated M for Sexual Situations, Possibility of Drugs, and Violence.
1. Toxic Beginnings

**A/N: Roughly based off of AHS & the old movie, Heathers. Enjoy babes!**

_I prepare for the noble war. I'm calm, I know the secret._

* * *

Caressing the silver pages and leather binding of one of her many books, she relaxed, sprawled on her warm mattress, and blankly stared at the wall and oblivion. The crisp scent of the book's pages provided broken solace after a day of mental anguish. Mindless chattering of the kids around her forced out whatever light of hers hadn't been snubbed by her mother.

"_Dammit…_", her thermos of coffee had emptied before the end of her first class, an indicator that today would be no better than the rest. Caffeine, still fresh in her veins, sang her name while her boots trudged down the linoleum, into a space ironically less stable than the last. Cafeteria's never brought Violet the illusion of satiation, but instead tainted by the gluttony and foul smells.

"_I need more coffee." _

* * *

Tate crouched close enough to the fire that he was sure the skin on his shins had long melted off, but he didn't mind. The slight pain made him smirk, gave him subtle goosebumps. He set his cigarette to his lips and kissed in the smoke, the cherry glowing brightly as he inhaled. Smothering the fire, he wondered off of the beach and toward her house, her back window, and hopefully into her bedroom.

Feeling ridiculously needy, Tate slides his phone from his pocket. He fumbles with the bright touch-screen for a few moments and begins to play some of Violet's favorite music. A slow, sultry, piano version of _Toxic_ coos from the small speakers and he tosses a few shells he picked from the sand toward the cracked window.

_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous_

_I'm lovin' it…_


	2. He Calls Her Love

**A/N: I'm probably going to be sticking to shorter chapters unless I get some imput from you guys on what to add. I write to interest others, so let me know what'd make you happy :)**

_-I like birds, too._

_-Why do you like them?_

_-Because they can fly away when things get too crazy, I guess. _

* * *

Shortly after, Tate had slowly clambered and shimmied his way up a tree then bounded gracefully into Violet's, now open, window from a thick branch. He stood lazily against the wall taking in the room around him:

light grey walls mottled with pictures, posters, papers, and tattered record sleeves; old, dark wooden floorboards that faintly moaned at his moccasined foot's touch, sporadically patched with soft red rugs; shelves filled and overflowing with books and movies of all types, sizes, genres, ages surrounding the sides of a small desk cluttered with papers and a laptop; then her bed. It wasn't too large, but clearly more than enough room for her tiny body. Multiple different blankets, comforters, pillows, and the occasional stuffed bear littered it's surface, somehow forming a makeshift nest of sorts. That's when he really _saw_ her.

His eyes fixed on her, he let the image of her sink in. He started with her feet, swaddled in thick, dark green socks, scrunched down toward the ankles. The candle's flickering from the tops of shelves make her snowy skin glow. What wasn't lit was draped in a baggy men's v-neck tshirt and a black fringed shawl, her arms pulled inside the sleeves. Tate flicked the butt of his dead Marlboro out the window and shut it again, leaving a crack like before. He sauntered over to the nest of a bed and sat beside Violet. She wiggled so her head was cradled in his warm lap and he began to run his smoke-scorched fingers through her messy chocolate hair.

"_I missed you today. School was migraine inducing. I'm so glad you're here"_, she mumbled against his leg as he softly planted kisses down her neck, like seeds drenched with love and dark thoughts instead of sun and water.

_I've been beaten down, I've been kicked around,_

_But she takes it all for me._

_And I lost my faith, in my darkest days,_

_But she makes me want to believe._


	3. What a Pretty Face

**A/N: Okay, so things are going to start getting a little more M-Rated from here on out. Please proceed with caution!**  


_Hi, I'm Tate. I'm dead._

_Want to hook up? I don't think so._

* * *

One hand mindlessly twirling a few stray strands of her hair as she began to fade into her dreams on his lap, he blew his own golden mess from his eyes and grabbed the leather-bound book she previously clutched. Flipping it open, he saw the crisp, blank pages and, confused, fumbled through more of the seemingly blank journal. Then he noticed a flash of deep ink, the color of a plum. Names. Viciously scrawled in the center.

_"Well…"_, he thought, amused now, with a smirk gracing his taunting lips,_ "I didn't know she had it in her"_. With that, he kicked off his worn slipper shoes to reveal mismatched socks. Tate chuckled as he readjusted himself to lay better, her in his arms, and Violet clutching to his over-sized sweater, sighing, and burying her face against the warm material. She made his darkness bearable.

* * *

Birds chirped faintly in the, still comfortable, Autumn morning weather. The sun shined emphatically through the biddable breeze and smell of wet, dewy lawns and the leaves that struggled to stay above the ground. Violet liberated a small yawn, stretched and wiggled her toes and legs, then rolled to her side, toppling directly onto a drooling Tate while scalloping his form to the mattress. He jumped a bit, but didn't wake up until Violet felt something slightly more interesting nudging up from beneath her. With a crooked smile of amusement, she slowly rocked herself backward and forward a few times. This is when Tate finally awoke with an irked moan, wiping the dry spittle from his scruffy, defined jaw. His eyes blinking at the sudden burst of sunlight let in, he smiled wryly at the small girl perched on him and groaned, _"Hello beautiful"_.

_"Happy to see me?"_, she replied in a sarcastic tone, smile still plastered to her sleepy face.

_Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face_

_The kind you'd find on someone I could save_

_If they don't put me away_

_Well, it'll be a miracle_


	4. Behind My Cigarette

**A/N: I know I've been promising more M-Rated stuff, but I've been a little busy with work and stuff. I'll try to crank up the size and content of my chapters the best I can.**

_Close your eyes and remember everything is gonna be okay._

_I love you. _

* * *

She knew it was a bad idea, but she wanted him. That's why she followed through with most things, anyway. She wanted to prove how strong and unafraid she was of everything, and that danger drew her in; she was a moth to the flame of darkness. Leaning down so their torsos were colliding and her fingers were weaving into the tangles of his hair, she kissed him heavily. At first, Tate's eyes widened with shock, then slowly, the more she worked her magic, the darker his black eyes grew and the more he pushed back. The low, almost growling, rumble escaping from the depths of Tate's throat told Violet she was on the right path. Slipping a delicate hand under the hem of his worn sweater, she traced each muscle and felt him shudder under the delicate, butterfly kiss, of her touch. They forgot about their own existence in those kisses and the more they held each other, the more they melted together. He bit her, hard and firm in the crook of her neck, leaving a unfading mark.

"_Tate… hey! Ow!"_, she tried to pull away, but his arms fastened her close. He shushed her, lips still against her skin, forceful, bruising. That's when she retrieved her wrist from his grasp, pulled back, and let her open hand land, violently, on his cheek. The sharp sound of soft skin against skin and the gentle sting left behind transfixed him. Blinking his eyes, now softening, he saw the pain in hers. "_I'm so sorry… Violet?"_

"_You… hurt me. Tate, you said you'd never hurt me."_

"_I thought you weren't afraid?"_, he mocked her.

"_I'm not"_, she felt that he challenged her now. He wanted to play rough? Fine. She locked her fingers behind his neck, pulling him to her, and kissed him hard and fast. "_Come on"_, she hopped off of her bed and began tossing some long, brown knit leggings and a mustard colored sweater from a drawer. Tate, still reclined in bed, watched her, amused. "_Are you coming, or not, retard?"_. She had changed already and sat with her legs dangling out her open window, cigarette drooping from the corner of her smirking mouth.

"_Where are we headed, m'lady?"_, Tate chuckled.

"_I want some coffee, then, you'll see"_.

_I'm gonna fight 'em off_

_A seven nation army couldn't hold me back_

_They're gonna rip it off_

_Taking their time right behind my back_

_And I'm talkin' to myself at night_

_Because I can't forget_

_Back and forth through my mind_

_Behind a cigarette_


	5. Coffee Shop Lovers

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the views and support guys! Working on improving the size & content of each chapter for you all (as you can see from the last chapter). Keep up with the feedback! I use every bit of your recommendations!**

_I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything._

* * *

They trudge with hands locked through the crisp, dying grass of the neighborhood, cutting through lawns to avoid the streets, people. Feeling slightly more proud of themselves for choosing a small, local coffee shop instead of the Starbucks down the block, Tate decides on a very large travel cup of sweet, milky, chai tea that steams and scalds his tongue with every gulp; Violet chooses a dark, blueberry coffee with a hint of milk to cool it.

"_Why don't you ever drink coffee? You're always drowning tea with fake, shitty flavors. Doesn't make sense."_, Violet eyed the sealed, paper cup in his pale grasp.

"_My life is bitter enough. Imagine me, not only loaded with caffeine, but a bad taste in my mouth to top it… No thanks."_, he gave her a goofy grin, flashing her his precarious teeth. When he was serious and deep, my god did Violet think he was poetically beautiful, but when he joked and lightened up, she was in emotional peril, weak in the legs. Never had there lived a man more enticing.

"_Oooh, absolutely frightening, Tate. Please, load your system with sugar instead."_, the sarcasm dripped from her every word. She loved when it was easy and fun like this. Tate draped his arm around her shoulder.

"_You alone are a lifetime's enough sugar to sweeten things for me."_, Violet tiptoed up to brush her nose against his softly, lips almost touching, but pulled away and started jogging down the sidewalk before he knew what hit him.

"_Are you coming or what?"_, her voice chimed.

_I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop_

_I love so much_

_All of the while, I never knew_

_It was you_


End file.
